


in your arms

by fav_littleleaf



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Ace subtype: down for a little teasing, Fluff, I will never not write him like this, Kissing, Lap-sitting, M/M, Season 2 ish, Touch-Starved Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, eldritch monsters falling in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27996441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fav_littleleaf/pseuds/fav_littleleaf
Summary: Elias holds Jon after he reads statements, much to Jon’s simultaneous chagrin and delight.Before he knows it’s happening, he’s spilling babble about the statement he’d just read; it wasn't even that traumatic, but when he finished he’d walked around in a daze. Martin’s tea tasted like slate, and going for a walk in the sun felt like trawling the faded pages of a book left for time to devour. Anything that wasn’t Elias’s arms felt hollow.Enter the tenth bad decision he’s made all day. (It’s probably at least twelve, but he has to cut himself some slack sometimes).
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 14
Kudos: 84





	in your arms

**Author's Note:**

> you ever wanna just sit in Elias’s lap and let him kiss your neck and look after you?
> 
> oh, yeah, uh, me either. weirdos, amirite?

When Jon nudges open the door to his office, Elias just offers a mild smile and opens his arms, a little ritual that has transcended words between them. Jon walks around the desk and climbs onto Elias’s lap with a quiet sigh. Jon fits perfectly inside his arms.

He curls his fingers into the placket of Elias’s dress shirt, drawing comfort from the cool pressed linen. He tucks his face into the crook of Elias’s neck and breathes deeply in the scent of eucalyptus and spiced vanilla.

It’s like this man was made for him. 

His face burns that his brain is even _capable_ of stringing together such saccharine nonsense, especially about his boss, who may or may not have murdered Gertrude. But it’s just as well, because Elias’s skin is warm anyway.

Elias continues working, his arms affectionately caging Jon in as he edits some spreadsheet or other, but Jon can tell his attention is on him. He sighs, and Elias’s hand comes to rest on the back of his neck, scratching gently on the delicate hairs there.

Before he knows it’s happening, he’s spilling babble about the statement he’d just read; it wasn’t even that traumatic, but when he finished he’d walked around in a daze. Martin’s tea tasted like slate, and going for a walk in the sun felt like trawling the faded pages of a book left for time to devour. Anything that wasn’t Elias’s arms felt hollow.

Enter the tenth bad decision he’s made all day. (It’s probably at least twelve, but he has to cut himself some slack sometimes).

“Really, Jon?” Elias says. “After what happened with Prentiss, you can’t deal with a little fog?”

“Fuck off,” Jon mutters, but then Elias is kissing his neck, and the next thing that comes out of his mouth is a breathy moan.

Elias presses his advantage, as he always does, and wraps his arm around Jon’s waist. His teeth graze the hollow of Jon’s throat, and all Jon can do is hold on tighter.

“Had a nightmare last night,” he says, by delayed way of explaining how much of a mess he is. It doesn’t come out as smoothly as he wants it to.

Elias’s touch slows in response to his confession. He presses gentle kisses along Jon’s jaw, stops at the corner of his mouth. “You really ought to let me come over, Jon,” he murmurs.

Jon scowls. “There’s no way you would keep your hands to yourself.” He squirms in Elias’s grip, re-positioning himself so their hips press flush together. He is _not_ enjoying this.

Elias hums in acknowledgement. “Is that so bad?”

“It’s an HR nightmare, is what it is.”

“Again, I fail to see the problem.”

The problem is that if he let Elias in his bed, _something_ would never come out, whether that’s his heart from Elias’s seductive machinations or Elias himself, tied up so his smug little grin can be contained where it belongs. He suspects it’s the former, and that the latter is not strictly possible.

Elias tilts his head into a kiss, the git, but Jon can’t blame him, because the other thing that fits perfectly between them is Elias’s mouth.

Jon parts his lips for him, trying not to please him with a soft whine, but failing anyway. He doesn’t resist when Elias’s tongue slips into his mouth, warm and greedy and seeking more closeness, more of everything that he is and will ever be. Jon grudgingly begins to rethink not letting him into his bedroom. Who is he to deny if Elias can put the colour back in the sun?

A knock on the door stuns him out of his dreamy haze. Jon leans back a little from the kiss, shifting on Elias’s lap, then makes a little _mmph_ sound when Elias pulls him back in.

“Shh,” Elias murmurs into his mouth. “It’s not important.”

The suggestion sends a shiver down Jon’s spine. He has half a mind to suggest crawling under Elias’s desk and waiting at his feet, but the actually reasonable part of his brain squashes it out before the thought can bloom any further.

“No, I should, er —” He swallows. “I should go.”

Elias smiles, his gaze dark and smouldering, as if he had been thinking the exact same thing. He tucks his thumb under Jon’s chin, tipping it down. “If you insist.”

Jon swallows and climbs off his lap awkwardly, trying not to think too much about his expression. Elias doesn’t wait for him to collect himself before inviting his visitor in.

He has another cup of tea that afternoon, and it tastes like the loamy scent of the earth after a gentle rain. It’s not so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> is anyone looking for a beta trade? my normal beta is extremely anti-Elias (like a reasonable human), so I’ve been going without for a bit … [message me on tumblr](https://fav-littleleaf.tumblr.com/) if you’re down :D


End file.
